Sparks
by LittleMissBookJunkie
Summary: After years of torture, Elle Bishop finally manages to escape her personal hell. Two years later, she finds herself serving two enigmatic young men playing chess whilst waitressing at a local cafe. Meanwhile, the youngest Petrellis discover something disturbing about Nathan and Trask is gaining allies in high places. Mutants will be more at risk than ever before. Post FC, pre DOFP.
1. Prologue

_**A/N: In this Elle Bishop is a mutant. Basically all Heroes characters are going to be described as mutants (rather than having "Specials" and "Mutants", as they're sort of the same thing, ability wise, or at least in this story anway. **_

_**Any constructive criticism, or nice reviews, or anything like that is very much welcomed. Any questions, feel free to ask in the reviews and I will answer as best I can in the next chapter. This is my first fanfiction, just to warn you in case it's dreadful. Hope you like it *fingers crossed*.**_

_**Disclaimer: X-Men First Class, Heroes, nor anything else in this fan fiction that you recognise, belongs to me. I own nothing. All rights belong to Marvel/ Tim Kring. **_

* * *

_Prologue_

**Elle POV**

I had been planning my escape for years.

I would spend hours daydreaming about what freedom would feel like, taste like, smell like; once I had finally found it. Some little girls wished for tiaras and teddy bears, but _me_? I wished for freedom.

My childhood was an unpleasant one; nightmarish memories of nameless scientists shooting thousands of electrical volts through my system, my father and Trask making notes in the background. Cold hands squirting me with water as they forced me to use my mutation, causing me to be electrocuted. And the pain, _oh the pain_- excruciating and never-ending.

The images flash cruelly behind my eyes as I run for my life, my tired legs pumping to and fro and try to propel myself faster, finally escaping my past.

It was my father that gave me to the scientists that worked for Trask to be experimented on. That day, when I had screamed for my daddy to make them stop and he just stood by, unwavering and unconcerned…that day will always burn in my mind.

_I hate them all so much. _The pure hatred and rage that roars in my soul is so intense it's almost tangible. Sometimes all I want more than anything is the vengeance I deserve- but then I have to remind myself that I want to find my freedom even more.

I was six years old when they first took my innocence away, when they robbed me of my childhood. Now here I am, twenty years old, and I've missed so much. Never had a friend or a first kiss, never seen a movie or experienced real love. The last person to truly love me was my mother and she died when I was four. Sucks to be me, huh?

Or at least it did. But now I'm on my way, I'm escaping.

For months I've been waiting for this: I stopped taking the drugs they gave me, which they trusted me to give myself as before I'd been a reasonable prisoner, well sort of, if you excuse the occasional face-scratch or biting of a scientist, that is. So I stockpiled them, keeping them in a sock under my mattress.

Then, when the time was right and I had enough pills for my plan to work, I crushed them up into a fine dust, which I then put back into the sock and put the sock in the front-pocket of my pinafore.

Whilst being escorted back to my cell by a guard, I used my mutation to shock the guard escorting me and then whilst he cried out conveniently "tripped" over in the direction of the guard's table that was near my cell knocking a pile of papers onto the floor and setting them alight with a light spark of electricity.

I plucked a key-card off the countertop and spilt the sock, which I had taken from my pocket beforehand, so that the drugs were tipped into the coffee mug of the guard sat there, who had been distracted by the imminent chaos unfolding before him.

Having regained their senses, my escort had then rather roughly dragged me back into my cell and locked me in there with his own key-card.

When nightfall fell, I used the key-card to open the door, checked that the guard was knocked out, possibly dead from an overdose but _hey-ho, _at his desk, and then did a runner. It was easier than I thought it would be, surprisingly.

All those years of tormenting that I had been put through and escape was really that easy? What a cruel feeling of irony that was.

Of course, I have no money, no map, no spare clothes, no food. I have no idea where I'm going and I've been running for miles and hours, judging on the lightness of the sky. But anything is better than that hellhole.

_Anything. _


	2. Chapter One

**_Disclaimer: X-Men First Class, Heroes, nor anything else in this fan fiction that you recognise, belongs to me. I own nothing. All rights belong to Marvel/ Tim Kring._**

* * *

_Chapter One_

***TWO YEARS LATER****"**

**Erik POV**

I sigh as I use my knight to take one of Charles' pawns half-heartedly. It seems strange to think of how much has changed in the past five years since the Cuba incident- Charles' paralysation of his legs, his setting up a school and becoming a head teacher, the growth of the brotherhood, the ending of my relationship with Mystique, which let me tell you, certainly made things awkward within the brotherhood for awhile.

Today is one of Charles' few days off, and surprisingly, he chose to spend it playing chess with an old friend in a grotty downtown café in downtown Manhattan.

I can understand his choice of café, in all fairness- it's fairly low-key, no chance of recognition from the authorities for myself. Of course, his school , he has made quite clear, is off limits to myself and the rest of the brotherhood unless in case of an emergency.

It hurts, but I can understand his reasons. He doesn't want someone as dangerous as myself around young vulnerable children. Understandable.

Charles uses his bishop to take my knight and quirks his eyebrows, "You're off your game today,".

I chuckle, "It's hard to beat a telepath you know,".

Charles rolls his eyes, "Yes, you tell yourself that. You know I would never use my mutation to cheat. What's wrong, old friend?"

I meet his periwinkle blue eyes briefly, his gaze inquiring, and then sigh, "It's Mystique-"

"You mean Raven?" Charles interrupts and I sigh, "Yes, well, whatever you want to call her, she's been a bit, well, not herself lately, I don't know what's wrong with her,".

Charles frowns deeply, worried for his adoptive sister, "How so?"

"She's been rather snappy lately and she keeps disappearing off with Azazel, and he seems a little off too, to be frank. I don't know what's got into them lately," I say and Charles wrinkles his nose at the mention of Azazel.

He wasn't all too happy about my being with her, and he certainly wasn't when she began dating Azazel of all people. I must admit, I was surprised, but withheld judgement. After all, it's her decision.

"Perhaps they're fighting about something? Couples do that sometimes, you know," Charles sighs and I shrug, "All I know is that-"

"Excuse me sirs, are you ready to order yet?" A feminine voice interrupts and I turn around to find myself face to face with the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

My heart contracts in my chest as I my eyes take in her waist length blonde hair tied back and electric blue eyes. Her pretty lips purse as she catches me looking and those mesmerising eyes narrow warningly at me. I blush, angry at myself. I'm normally so calm and collected, I have never lost my cool over a woman like this before; how embarrassing.

Charles clears his throat nervously, "I'll have a coffee please, fully caffeinated, no milk, please,".

She smiles at Charles and writes down his order then turns to Erik expectantly. "Earl grey tea, please," I say, smiling lightly before looking away, unable to hold her electrifying gaze. She smirks triumphantly, scribbles down his order and then saunters off.

"You fancy her," Charles whispers computationally, pointing at me.

"Don't be ridiculous," I sigh and he grins, "She made you blush. I don't think I've ever seen you blush before, not once in all these years. Perhaps she's mutant and that's her mutation. The ability to make even the most ruthless of men blush,".

I roll my eyes and then pause, "Is she a mutant? You couldn't by any chance-" I wiggle my fingers at my head, "_-you know? _Could you?"

"I am _not _reading her mind to find out if the girl you fancy is a mutant or not just because of some unnecessary sapien prejudice you have," Charles glares at me in outrage.

"Oh for heavens' sake, let's not start this again, please? We were just managing to have a civil conversation for once," I say.

"I'm always civil, Erik, it's only you that has to be forever resorting to violence," Charles scoffs.

"Don't play so innocent, Charles, you and I both know that-"

"And here is you black coffee, fully caffeinated," The waitress smiles at Charles as she hands him his coffee. "_And _your Earl Grey," She passes Erik his drink before sashaying off one more.

I watch her hips sway as she walks away, unreasonably entranced and Charles laughs, "Oh you've got it _bad, _old friend. I must say, I've never seen you like this before,".

"Leave it Charles, I don't even know her name," I growl but he shakes his head, "It's Laura. At least, according to her nametag,".

"Hmm, she doesn't look like a Laura," I say thoughtfully and Charles laughs, "Because I look like a Charles, because we all look our names?"

I roll my eyes and blow on my tea before sipping it, "You know what I mean. And yes you do, actually. No one has ever looked more like a Charles than you have,".

Charles shrugs and says nonchalantly, "I've always thought of myself as more of a James, to be honest,".

"I'm not sure where this conversation is heading, so on that final note, I'll be going," I say as I rise, pulling on my trench coat as I go. "Erik, please just sit down. You haven't even finished your tea, let alone this game. Are you afraid of being truly thrashed by me once more?"

"Charles, I've places to be, things to do-" I begin, only to be cut off by Charles, "Villages to plunder, mutants to avenge, etcetera, etcetera. Yes, yes _I know. _But I also know that if it wasn't for that woman unhinging you, you'd have still stayed to finish your tea and this game. Erik, we're all attracted to people once in awhile, there's really no need to be so silly-"

Ignoring him, I began to make my way to the door rather hurriedly, only to bump into the pretty waitress once more, causing the drinks she was carrying to be spilt all over her the front of her gingham uniform.

"I'm so, so sorry, I-" I begin to apologise, well and truly humiliated now. She ignores me, completely freezing up as though in terror, her electric eyes far away.

The bell on the door tinkles as someone enters and she snaps around to face whoever entered. She hisses in her breath in horror and backs away at the sight of a middle-aged portly man, decked out in a plain suit and glasses, his head balding slightly.

He appears quite ordinary and yet his presence seems to evoke fear in the entrancing supposed Laura, who promptly turns and sprints to hide in the kitchen.

At this, I turn back to Charles who shrugs as I ask , "What on earth was that all about?"

"I have no idea, but it appears as though I may very well have to do my-" he wiggles his fingers at his forehead, "- you know, _thing,__"__._

He nods at the pair of men dressed in black that flank the portly man and I tense as I realise what Charles was getting at. I can sense the metal in the guns that they're carrying. And if they're carrying guns, then this can't mean anything good, judging on the way she ran off.


	3. Chapter Two

_**Disclaimer: X-Men First Class, Heroes, nor anything else in this fan fiction that you recognise, belongs to me. I own **__**nothing. All rights belong to Marvel/ Tim Kring.**_

* * *

_Chapter Two_

**Peter POV**

"Nathan? What the hell is this?"

I shake the sickening file at my older brother, my face contorted in rage.

"Peter, just listen to me, it's not as bad as it looks-" Nathan begins but I snarl in disgust and growl over him, "_NOT AS BAD AS IT LOOKS? _YOU'RE FUNDING A MAN TO TORTURE PEOPLE AND IT'S NOT _AS BAD AS IT LOOKS?!__"_

"Petey, look, it really isn't that bad, it's not like they're really _people _anyway, I mean, they're mutants, they're not natural," Nathan says without batting an eyelash.

I sputter in disgust, "_Not people? _Of course they are! Just because they're mutants doesn't mean they feel pain! God, you're a hypocrite. You can fly Nathan, so what does that make you, huh?"

"_Lower your voice, Peter,__"_Nathan hisses.

"IT MAKES YOU A _MUTANT! _As am I, _and _Claire _and _Mom!" I growl.

"Mom is _not _a mutant, and neither are we," Nathan scoffs.

"Nathan, are you hearing yourself right now? _We can fly. Me and mom can dream the future. Me and Claire can heal from any injury. _What does that make us? _MUTANTS! _So how the hell can you justify torturing your own kind?!" I spew and Nathan glares at me, "We aren't torturing them, we're experimenting on them,".

"Oh _please. _So-" I glance at the notes at the top of the pile of papers I'm clutching, "So pumping 5000 volts into a girl that can manipulate electrical energy is just "_experimenting_" is it, it's not at all agonisingly painful,".

"She can manipulate that stuff, I'm doubtful it hurt her," Nathan shrugs.

"But what if it did? What if she screamed for them to stop? What if the memories still haunt her at night? All of which could have been prevented had you not been a major hypocrite and funded this god-awful project!" I snarl before turning to leave.

"Peter, where the hell do you think you're going?" Nathan asks and I shout back, "Away from you!"

* * *

"I know he's always been a cold bastard, but I'd never think he'd be capable of this," Claire says as she nibbles her lip worriedly whilst she flicks through the incriminating file, "_God_, this is awful. Imagine what they'd do to me, if they got their hands on me, Petey,".

"Don't worry, Claire, I won't let them touch you," I smile down at my eighteen year old niece. Being only four years younger than myself, she's more like a sister than a niece.

"We should run away, Petey. I mean, I reckon Dad's pretty pissed off right now-" Claire begins but I cut in, "He wouldn't hand us in, Claire, he wouldn't do that,".

"But would he? I mean, I would never have thought he'd fund something like this, but now, well, now I think he'll think we know too much,".

I sigh and run my hands through my hair worriedly, "Where would we go, Claire? What would we do?"

She wrinkles her nose in thought, then says, "I heard of this place, over on Long Island. My friend, you remember West? Well, he mentioned it once. Said it was a safe place for mutants, 'Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters',".

I laugh, "A school? Thank you _think _might exist?"

"Look, West said they'd been to recruit him and that he was thinking of going. What harm can we do? I'm sure they could help us out, if anything. I mean, heck, this torture chamber needs to be taken down, maybe they can help us with that?" Claire asks.

"You want to take it down? I'm in for that. But I highly doubt that a _school full of children _can help," I say and Claire grins, "Ah yes, but a school full of _gifted _children,".

* * *

**Elle POV**

It took me a while to get myself off my feet. It taken more than a few train hops, thefts, minimum wage jobs and begging to get me my scummy little flat in downtown Manhattan.

But hey, even though I can hear the rats scuttling across the floorboards at night and the grime on my window makes it impossible to see out of, it's mine. To rent, anyways, but still, it's my own little form of freedom.

By day, I work at a nearby café as a waitress, and at nights I work as a dancer at a local nightclub. The kind that wears very little and dances for men. I don't particularly feel all that great about myself when doing it, but the money helps pay the bills and I've faced worse things in my life.

Today had begun like most days do.

I'd dressed myself for work in my blue gingham dress and white apron, pulled on my white tennis shoes, brushed my hair and pulled it back in a long ponytail, cleaned my teeth and had a quick cup of coffee and an apple. Then I'd walked to work, avoiding the local beggars and people in general.

I'd arrived at work, under the alias of "Laura Bailey", and greeted my co-waitresses, Rosie and Jenna, and my boss, the chef, called Parker.

All was going well until, around mid-morning, I had taken the orders of two young enigmatic men. They'd been playing chess and joking amongst each other when I'd wandered over. The taller of the two had looked me up and down with his piercing icy eyes for far too long for my liking and I'd glared at him, causing him to blush profusely.

Then, he'd gone and bumped into me, spilling liquids all over myself. I hate getting wet, staying in the shower for as short a time as possible and then thoroughly drying myself down afterwards. Over the years I've become rather paranoid about it, the result of the torture I suffered at the hands of my capturers.

So, add the fact that he'd been eying me up before and had now spilt liquids all over me, I was more than a little ticked with him. And then _he _came in.

My capturer. My torturer. My _father_.

I did the only thing my mind could think to do; I ran.

Now I'm gasping for breath, hiding in the kitchen, much to the confusion of Parker, hoping to God that he didn't see me.

"You alright?" He asks and I shake my head no. "What's up?"

I look towards the door worriedly. "It's my father," I whisper, "He's found me,". Parker frowns but then looks out of the window in the door that separates the bar from the kitchen, his gaze quizzical.

My father's voice carries through the walls, "I'm looking for an Elle Bishop," he asks Rosie, who frowns and replies, "Well, she's not here. Why do you want to find her?"

So I'm guessing he didn't see me then. _Phew._

"She may be under a different alias. Does a girl that looks like this work here?" He shows a picture to Rosie who freezes then shrugs, "Nope. Not seen her in here before,".

Jenna walks over to look at the photo, "Hmm, I think I saw a girl like that when I was in New Jersey visiting relatives last month,".

I turn away, sighing in relief and attempt to gain control of my shaking.

When I turn back, my father and his minions seem to have lost interest and left, much to my relief.

"You wanna leave out the back, hun? You look like you need to lie down. Go have some rest, just be back on time tomorrow," Parker smiles kindly and I nod, "That sounds good, thanks,".

I collect my coat, an old beige affair that I bought in a thrift store, and a very badly hand-knitted scarf, wrap up, and head off back home via the back way.

I walk slowly, looking this way and that, only to scream aloud as I bump headfirst into that irritating man from before. I notice his friend sat in a wheelchair behind him.

"Are you alright? You seem rather shaken," He asks in an indistinguishable accent, his voice all too deep and attractive. I let out an irritated sigh, "I'm fine, just let me past,".

He nods and steps aside as his friend calls out, "You're planning on running again, aren't you?"

I freeze up. Damn telepaths.

"So what? It's none of you business, _telepath,__"_I glare at him. I'm all too well acquainted with telepaths. I can still remember that horrid blonde one from the later years of my imprisonment, digging around in my brain.

His irritating friend raises his eyebrows, "You know he's a telepath?"

I shrug, "I've met one before. It wasn't a pleasant experience,".

"I'm sorry about that," The one in the wheelchair says, his periwinkle blue eyes so sincere it catches me off guard. "We're not all terrible, though. I simply wanted to offer you an alternate solution to going on the run again,".

I narrow my eyes at him, "And that is?"

"My name is Charles Xavier. I run a school for mutants. You'll be safe there," He says and I sigh, "I'm sorry, but I'm not one for taking charity,".

"Well then it wouldn't be charity. You could work there, perhaps as a teacher or a nurse," He suggests kindly but I shrug, "Look mister, I don't have any training and I'm not exactly a great role model. I doubt I'd be of any help,".

"I'm sure we could find something for you, Elle," He says and I continue to narrow my eyes at him.

It could be a trap. But it might not be, and it sounds like a pretty good deal. I have no doubt that now my father has managed to track me down to this side of Manhattan, he'll soon find me, one way or another. So either way, I can't stay here anymore.

_What have I got to lose?_

"Can I get my stuff from my flat first?" I ask and Charles grins, "I'll take that as a yes then. And of course you can, my dear,".

I smile back, my gaze flitting across to meet Erik's concerned eyes. His cool pale eyes send shivers shooting down my spin, but I brush off the sensation. "Come on, I only live down the street, it's not far,".


	4. Chapter Three

_**A/N: Apologies if Erik came across as a little OOC in the last chapter. I**__**'**__**m trying to stick true to their characters and I know it seems super unlikely that he**__**'**__**d go all abashed around a random woman. So yeah**__**…**__**sorry about that. I'll try to avoid going all OOC on you guys as best as I can.**_

_**Anyways, apologies if things seemed a little **_**meh **_**in the prologue or if anything seems a little off. I**__**'**__**m not really sure where I**__**'**__**m going with this fan fiction, it all depends on how my muse is feeling. But I will try my very best to update as regularly as possible and finish it :)**_

_**Disclaimer: X-Men First Class, Heroes, nor anything else in this fan fiction that you recognise, belongs to me. I own nothing. All rights belong to Marvel/ Tim Kring. **_

* * *

_Chapter Three_

**Elle POV**

I rummage through my drawers, attempting to ignore the presence of the stranger behind me. Erik, he said he was called. Erik Lensherr. I shove what few things I hold dear into a black bag, collecting my clothes, toiletries and my favourite mug that I saved up for last Christmas. It's bright blue and covered in white polka dots and a symbol of pride, representing all the hard work I've been doing these past two years.

Charles is waiting outside, the block my flat is in not being wheelchair friendly, but Erik took it upon himself to escort me. I'd have argued, only I liked the feeling of reassurance it brought me, not that I'd ever tell him that he makes me feel weirdly safe.

I turn to find him frowning at the corner of the grimy flat, "You appear to have an infestation of rats,".

"Meh, they keep me company. Besides, my landlord's an asshole, he's too lazy to do anything about it. I've asked him plenty of times about calling in pest control, but he just ignores me. I suspect sexism's at play. Either that or just pure laziness," I shrug, nonplussed.

"Well, that's it. Let's roll," I say, flinging the bag over my shoulder, then remember the soggy uniform I'm still wearing. "Actually wait. I'm just gonna go change real quick, seeing as _somebody, _not that I'm naming any names *_ahem_* Erik, spilt drinks all over me,".

He looks down at the floor in shame, "Yes, well, sorry about that,".

I raise an eyebrow at him and then go into the bathroom to quickly change. A faded stripy jumper and some brown slacks later, and I'm once more dry and comfortable.

"Ready?" Erik asks and I nod, "Yup,".

Clutching my bag, I begin to make my way down the stairs, Erik hot on my tail. "So, do you teach at this mysterious school as well?" I ask and he chuckles.

"No, no I'm not really the teaching type. Myself and Charles only meet up occasionally to play chess, you see, for we have conflicting ideals," He says. _O_kay_. What the heck does that mean?_

"What kind of ideals?"

"The kind that concern mutants and sapiens," He replies curtly. Which didn't really explain all that much, but I suppose he's just trying to keep up this mysterious aura of his, which is a complete contrast to the bumbling fool he'd come across as at the café. I'm starting to think that he's normally this cold and calculating, and that I'd been privy to a rare moment of clumsiness earlier on.

"Charles believes that sapiens and mutants can co-exist, but I disagree. Just know that there's always a place for you in the Brotherhood," He says.

I frown, "The Brotherhood? Doesn't sound very female-friendly,".

He laughs, "All brothers and sisters, all mutants alike, are welcome in the Brotherhood of Mutants. We're fighting for our right to take our place as the superior species,".

"Huh, well, I'll think about it, Mr Dark and Mysterious," I say, a teasing smile tugging at my lips as he rolls his icy eyes in an act of derision.

Once out on the street again, Charles smiles at me, his eyes kind and reassuring, "So, to the school then?"

* * *

**Claire POV**

Sometimes you just have stand back and wonder, _how did it come to this? _Yesterday morning all was well, myself and Peter had sat outside with Grandmother eating brunch as usual, enjoying the soft breeze of autumn, chattering amongst ourselves. Then Peter had found the file on Dad's work with Trask and Bishop, and everything kicked off.

Now here we stand, face to face with what appears to be a very real school, with a sign next to the gate reading "XAVIER'S SCHOOL FOR GIFTED YOUNGSTERS".

"So it _does _exist, Peter," I smile triumphantly and he nudges me in the ribs with his elbows, "Yeah, but it just looks like one of those fancy private schools for child prodigies,".

"Don't judge a book by it's cover, Uncle dearest," I grin as I turn to open the gate.

"Excuse me? Can we help you?" A male British voice asks from behind us, causing us to jump.

I turn to find myself face to face with a man in his mid-twenties with piercing eyes and soft brown hair looking up at us curiously. A blonde woman and a man with cold eyes stand behind them. I can feel their eyes sizing myself and my uncle up for measure, no doubt wondering what we're doing here.

Or at least they were, until they began to wonder what one earth was going on with my uncle dearest.

"_What the hell?__"_He hisses as electric blue sparks race up and down his right arm. He shakes his arm as if that will help anything, only causing himself to smack his right arm into the metal barred gates behind us, which for some unknown reason curved under his touch.

He yelped, clutching at his right arm with his left hand.

I can hear the newcomers muttering amongst themselves in concern, picking up on bits of conversation;

"Did he just-"

"-he has the same mutation as me?"

"-well, this is the first time I've met a mimic-"

Peter suddenly cried out as his clutched at his head with his hands, beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead.

"_Peter_! Peter, it's okay, it's okay, just calm down, just breathe. Come on Petey, you can get over this, it's okay," I say, rushing towards him and placing a calming hand on the arm that hasn't erupted into sparks of blue electricity.

He grunts in pain, his eyes closed shut tightly. I twist my body to face the newcomers once more, asking, "You're mutants right? This is a safe place for mutants? _Right?__"_

The man in the wheelchair nods, "Yes, it is. I can help your uncle, don't worry-"

The kind man is interrupted, however, by another burst of blue sparks that sizzle up and down both his arms, burning my skin in the process.

"Ugh," I moan, wriggling my fingers as the revolting blisters heal over in seconds, much to the surprise of the strangers. The man in the wheelchair begins to roll his chair forward warily, his periwinkle gaze concerned.

"Peter, look at me Peter…"

* * *

**Peter POV**

_Peter, look at me Peter__…_

I open my eyes, blinking as white dots of glaring lights brace my vision. I can feel myself wobbling, my body cracking under the pressure of being in the presence of so many new mutants.

One moment I'm fine. The next my arm's lighting up and I'm suddenly aware of all things electrical nearby, all things metal and magnetic. If that wasn't bad enough, don't even get me started on the telepathy.

All those thoughts, not just of the people around me but of all the people back at the school. All these thoughts tumbling around in my mind, forming one huge gigantic wave of indistinguishable noise.

Before now, the only other mutants I'd really known had been Nathan, Claire and my mom. If that school really is a safe haven for mutants, and I've reacted like this to being close by to only three of them, then how will I cope when I'm surrounded by them?

Claustrophobia begins to plague me at the thought.

_Peter calm down. _

I bristle at the familiar sound of the soft-spoken British voice.

_I__'__m fine, I__'__ve got this, just-_

The voice intercepts my line of thought.

_Peter, you are _not _fine. Clear your mind._

I snort mentally, _That__'__s pretty hard to do when it__'__s so cluttered with everyone__'__s thoughts._

_Peter, _the voice says sternly, _listen to me. Clear your mind. _

I frown as I close my eyes once more, taking in deep breaths as I attempt to clear my mind. It's not as hard as I thought it would be and I smile as I begin to feel a little calmer.

_Good work, Peter. Now, imagine that you__'__re taking these new abilities and you__'__re placing them in shelves or perhaps, drawers. You can still access them when you need to, but they__'__ll be more in your control, less in the way. _

I do as he says, imagining myself folding up the ability to control metal into a neat and orderly pile, alongside electrical manipulation and manifestation and telepathy. They sit there alongside flight, regeneration and clairvoyance.

The electrical sparks have subsided, the surrounding metal stops vibrating and my breathing calms down. No longer is my mind plagued by a wave of noise. I open my eyes slowly and uncertainly to find them connecting with those of the young man before me. Hazel connected with periwinkle for a brief moment before he looked away.

"You're very powerful, Peter," He says and I nod, uncertain how to respond. "You too," I reply, unable to hide how awkward I feel. I mean, I just completely lost it in front of this guy, and needless to say, I'm feeling a little embarrassed.

"Err, what just happened?" A feminine voice cuts in, and we turn around to face the young blonde woman from before.

Her electric eyes are wide with incredulity as she says, "You too?"

"Huh?" I reply and she rolls her eyes and raises her palm, a ball of blue electricity forming in the middle.

_Oh yeah. _"Yeah, I guess. Me too," I say, unsure of myself.

"And you just had a total meltdown _because__…__?__"_She trails off, her gaze expectant, as she turns to look at the tall, intimidating man stood beside her.

"He's a type of mimic, Elle. It's difficult to describe, but it's as though he can absorb the mutations of the mutants near to him, but without affecting the mutants themselves, and can then use that mutation as he likes from there on out, as he likes," The man in the wheelchair explains.

I frown, "Well, thanks for the analysis. But, and don't think me rude, who the hell are you?"

Charles smiles ruefully, "I rather think I should be asking you that question, Peter. This _is _my property you're standing on. I'm Charles Xavier, pleasure to meet you,".

He gestured to the pair stood behind him, "And this is my old friend, Erik Lensherr, and a new acquaintance, Elle Bishop,".

I freeze at the familiar name, my thoughts drifting back to the sight of the name that had been one amongst many in the list prisoners in that god awful file.

Charles must have seen the direction my thoughts had headed in, for now he appears deeply worried. He looks as though he's about to open his mouth to say something, when Erik says rather suddenly, "Charles, you _know _I prefer Magneto,".

Elle laughs out loud, _"__Magneto? _You _can__'__t _be serious!"


	5. Chapter Four

_**A/N: Thank you so much for your review, Awsomaniatica! Kudos to anyone else that picked up on the James McAvoy reference in Chapter One :D **_

_**Just as a way of forewarning, the pairings in this fic will be/could be:**_

_**Erik/Elle **__(as mentioned in the original version of the bio for this fic)_

_**Hank/Claire **__(unless you guys prefer Alex/Claire, although personally Alex belongs to Lorna Dane and Lorna Dane only. I might slip her into this fic, despite the fact that it won't work with the age of Magneto…because ya know, to hell with continuity)_

_(possibly, but undecided) __**Peter/Charles **__(how do you guys feel about this? I ship it, but then again, I ship many, many things. It's cool if loads of you are against it, but at the same time…I really wanna write it. Unless the idea repulses you as much as Sevmione repulses me. Sevmione, I mean really, why internet _why_? Apologies if you ship them, no judging in this fan fiction… but still, Sevily ftw…_okay_… I'll shut up now.)_

_**Disclaimer: X-Men First Class, Heroes, nor anything else in this fan fiction that you recognise, belongs to me. I own nothing. All rights belong to Marvel/ Tim Kring. **_

* * *

_Chapter Four_

**Claire POV**

"What's wrong with the name Magneto?" The man named Erik asks and the girl, Elle, replies, "Hmm, I don't know, _everything? _Please don't tell me you go gallivanting around the place calling yourself _Magneto?__"_

He glares at her, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he says, "I don't gallivant anywhere. And anyway, it's my work name,".

"You don't work. Do you?" Elle asks and he sighs, "I'm talking about the Brotherhood,".

"_Oh, _the not-so-female-friendly-hood, yeah, I get ya," She smirks and he sighs irritably, "I'm not even going to bother getting into this again with you,".

"_Ahem,__" _I cough loudly and they both turn around to see myself, Peter and Charles staring at them.

"Hi," I say, "I'm Claire, and this is my uncle, Peter, you know, the guy that just kinda had a little freak out a couple a minutes ago,".

Peter elbows me, "Shut it,". I grin back at him in pretend innocence and continue, "Anyways, this clearly _is _a safe place for mutants-" I shoot a look that smacked of _I told you so _towards Peter, who narrows his eyes as a way of reply, "-so we were wondering if maybe you guys could help us out?"

"Claire, I don't think this is the best idea," Peter says, giving me a knowing look.

"What? Because you just had a meltdown? Petey, you'll be fine. You got over it right? I'm sure you can cope," I say dismissively and he says, his voice strained, "No, I can't-"

"You could, actually. That is, if you wanted to. Stay at the school, I mean. But what is it that you need help with? Aside from controlling Peter's ability?" Charles asks me, causing Peter to look mildly affronted at the thought that he specifically needed help.

"Peter found this file in my dad's office yesterday," I say, rummaging through Peter's backpack without asking, much to his annoyance. I hand it to Charles, who flips through it briefly before running a hand through his tousled locks.

He then turns to Elle, "This is where you escaped from, isn't it?"

Her eyes widen in surprise as she sees the pictures at the back of the file that he's pointing at.

She stutters, looking mildly terrified, her eyes wide, "I-err- how did you- of course, _damn_ telepath," she murmurs, more to herself than anyone else. Erik strides forward to read what's in the file, then sucks in a sharp breath in surprise.

"They tortured you?" He asks Elle softly and she shrugs as though it's no big deal.

My heart tugs with sympathy, feeling terrible for the horrors that Elle must have faced. "We want to take it down, free the mutants that they're holding there," I say and Elle meets my eyes, her gaze unwavering.

"This isn't some picnic in the park, Blondie. Are you sure you know what you're saying?" She asks coldly and I flinch inadvertently at the icy tone to her voice.

But my Grandmother hasn't been training me all these years for nothing, so I reply in as level a voice as I can muster, "Yes. I'm not afraid,".

Elle quirks a perfectly shaped eyebrow at me and then shrugs, "Well then, Blondie, you just got on my good side,".

"You know, you're blonde too," I point out uncertainly.

She looks at me as though I just pointed something as obvious as the sun is hot, "Yup, I am. Your point being?"

"Let's all go in then, shall we?" Charles inputs to diffuse the tension.

Erik shakes his head, "I need to get going Charles, but if you're serious about this, then trust me when I say that the Brotherhood will want to do something about this place. Contact me if you want team up on this one,".

And with that, he turned and left. Just like that.

"Well, I have no clue what that was about," I say and turn to look at Peter who shrugs, seemingly deflated by the entire encounter.

"So, any chance of a tour?" Elle asks, pointing her thumb at the mansion in the distance.

"Of course, my dear," Charles smiles, then notices the damage done to the gate, "Ah yes, I forgot about that. Of course, he might have thought to help out before he left so dramatically,".

I turn to Peter, "You up for it, Pete?"

He frowns in concentration and then raises a palm to sort out the gate. The metal vibrates stubbornly before stutteringly twisting back into its original shape. Peter grins lopsidedly in satisfaction and I nudge him affectionately, "Look at you, bending metal like a pro,". He snorts as I link my arm in his.

* * *

**Hank POV**

"Newbie alert! Newbie alert!" Alex practically shouts in my all too sensitive ears.

"_Alex! _Get off!" I growl, looking back at the formula I'm working on. I've been looking into ways to cure blindness and was about to make some progress. Or rather was, until I was rudely interrupted by my friends.

"They look kinda old don't they? Too old to be students anyways," Sean says as he stares out of the window at the group making their way towards the Institute alongside the Professor.

"I'm not all that surprised ya know. Professor can't go five seconds without collecting strays," Alex says nonchalantly, openly staring at the newcomers.

"Alex, they don't exactly look like runaways. Those two look like they're in their twenties at least," Sean points out and Alex shrugs, "So? You don't have to be a kid to be a runaway,".

I sigh, having no choice but to put my work down frustrated, my concentration now broken, "Only the Professor could go away for a coffee break and come back with a new round of recruits,".

"You think they're here to join the X-Men? I didn't know we're recruiting," Alex says.

"We're not," Sean says uncertainly, "Are we?"

The pair look at me, knowing that of the three of us, I'm the most likely to know if the Professor is planning anything, having known him only slightly longer than the others and being the most mature.

"We aren't. At least, if we are then the Professor never said anything to me about it. Although that does seem unlikely, given that he's not all that comfortable with _us _being X-Men, let alone anyone else. I seriously doubt that he'd go off and encourage others to join," I say.

"Maybe they're ex-Brotherhood," Sean suggests but Alex snorts, "No way. I think I'd recognise those sons of bitches anywhere. Nah, these guys are completely unfamiliar,".

I roll my eyes at Alex's crass language, "Well, they just entered the Institute, so I'm sure we'll get to find out whoever they are soon enough,".

Sean and Alex look at each other, their faces enraptured in mischievous grins.

"Race you there!" Alex shouts, and then he's off with Sean hot on his heels.

I tut, "Idiots," before following them at a normal pace, not wanting to make a fool of myself. The three of us have grown to become much closer ever since the Cuba incident, having helped the Professor to set up the school, with Sean and Alex completing their high school education there whilst I worked as the in-school medical assistance.

Now they're both studying for their degrees in the new college system that the Professor set up last year, Alex having just turned twenty and Sean twenty one. Being twenty three myself and also having graduated from Harvard years ago, I can't help but feel far more mature than them sometimes.

Despite this, I couldn't ask for two better people to be best friends with. They were there for me when I coped with my confidence issues over my appearance, and then there are all those times spent fighting together as X-Men; it's enough to bond anybody,

I smile as I think of how much my life has improved since being a bumbling, awkward teenager. Sure, I still feel self-conscious, I mean I'm bright blue and furry, don't tell me you wouldn't feel the same way yourself if you were in my place. But I've long since stopped feeling angry at the world about it.

I'm so lost in thought that I don't spot the tiny blonde in front of me and end up bumping into her. She squeals and spins around, her olive eyes widening in surprise.

_Oh no. _Expecting her to be terrified, I lift up my hands in a symbol of surrender, "I'm sorry, I, err, I didn't see you there."

She seems to have got over her shock however, as she laughs it off, "Oh, don't worry about it. I _am _pretty small,".

The man stood next to her laughs, "Yeah, Claire is practically miniature. Her growth is totallyrestricted,".

She punches him on the arm and he cries out in mock-pain, "Hey, I'm five foot two, it's not _that _small,".

"Come on Claire, admit that you're tiny. Like one of those borrowers from that children's book," The man grins wickedly and she glares at him, "Well at least my bangs aren't ridiculously long, to the point that I can barely see!"

He clutches at his heart as though he's been stabbed, "Oh, you wound me. Insult me, but please just leave my bangs out of it. I mean, what did they ever do to you?"

She giggles and punches him in the arm again, "You're such an idiot." She links her arm with his and then turns slightly to smile at me, "I'm Claire by the way, sorry about Peter, he's made it his personal quest to constantly insult and annoy me."

My heart begins to beat wildly in my chest. Darn, she's pretty, what with her bright olive eyes and golden hair. _Concentrate Hank. Don__'__t stare at her like a weirdo, it__'__s not as if she__'__d be into you anyway, even if she wasn__'__t already with someone. _

I briefly look at the young man who appears to be in his early twenties, his arm linked in hers. He's of medium height, quite lanky but lean, with olive skin, hazel eyes and long dishevelled brown hair. Judging on the way they're so close to one another, he seems to be her boyfriend, which makes sense, seeing as she seems to be the sort of beautiful girl that wouldn't be single for too long.

"So what took you so long, buddy?" Sean asks, sidling up next to us, his eyes lighting up as he looks Claire up and down.

"I walked here like a normal person, rather than running ahead like a buffoon," I state simply and Alex raises his hands up in mock-innocence, "Who's that you're calling a buffoon, dude? You and I both know that being serious is a full-time job for me."

"Yes, well, it's one that you're failing at miserably," I smile at him.

"Well, anyways Hank, meet Claire-" He points at the pretty blonde, "-Elle-" he gestures to another blonde, who is older and also pretty, although she has a hardness to her that Claire is lacking. Her stance is defensive, with her jaw jutting out and her arms folded across her chest, contrasting to Claire's infectious smile and bubbly nature, "-and Peter."

He nods towards Peter, who mock salutes at me. I nod back, then point at myself, "Dr. Hank McCoy, nice to meet you."

"You're a doctor? That's amazing! Why didn't _you_ train to be a doctor, Petey?" She asks Peter, who's still stood arm-in-arm with her.

"There's nothing wrong with being a male nurse, Claire, so don't you start. I've already had this discussion with Dad _and _Nathan. It's only mom that gets it," He replies defensively.

"Yeah, but then you'd get to call yourself _Dr. _Peter Petrelli. You have to admit it sounds a hell of a lot cooler," She smirks, prodding him in the stomach.

He flicks his hair out of his eyes and elbows her back. "Your hair is ridiculously long," She shakes her head ruefully and he sighs, "Are you finished with heckling me now?"

She shakes her head no and he barks out a laugh of disbelief.

"Are you guys together or something?" Sean asks what I've been thinking throughout the entire conversation but would never dare ask aloud.

At this, Claire bursts into laughter and Peter looks at him in horror.

"No," She says in between gasps of giggles, "_Eww_, just no. No, that's so gross!"

"Hey!" Peter cries out, "I'm not _that _bad!"

"Yes, yes you are," Claire says.

"No way, I'm at least a nine out of ten, or even an eleven," He smirks and she prods him in the stomach again, "Stop it! Just stop talking about it!"

"What would our couple name be, I wonder? How about Paire? That'd be pretty cool," He grins wickedly and she resolves to violence once more, punching him in the arm.

"_No it would not! _Because we aren't a couple, because you're being weird and gross and just _stop talking about it!__" _She punches him lightly in the other arm for good measure and then turns back to face the rest of us, "He's my uncle. So no, we're _not _dating."

_Oh. _That explains her reaction. Sean is now blushing at what he just suggested and Alex has doubled up laughing at him.

"You know you like getting all incestuous with me, Claire-Bear," Peter grins mischievously.

"No, I definitely do not. And what did I tell you about calling me that?" She growls, her hands placed firmly on her hips, now completely disentangled from him.

Peter opens his mouth to reply before he cries out in pain. "_Oh god! _What the-" He kicks off his sneakers to reveal that his toes have grown through his socks, "Aw, those were my favourite socks. Damn mutation."

I look down at feet that mirrored my own before the serum. "What-" I begin but he shakes his head disbelievingly, "Okay, which one of you guys has a big-foot mutation?"

I raise my hand nervously and he raises his eyebrows, "Then why aren't I blue?"

The Professor speaks up for the first time since I arrived, "This is Hank's original physical mutation. However, it intensified after an experimentation with a serum that didn't quite go to plan."

The Professor smiles sympathetically at me and I smile back, my expression strained as I try to hide the regret that fills me whole once more. "It was meant to hide my mutation without affecting it," I say.

"Did it work?" Peter asks, before clapping a hand to his forehead, "Of course it didn't, because ya know he just said, and well, ya know-" He looks at my blue fur and Claire elbows him in the ribs once more, only to yelp in pain.

"Ouch! Peter, what the hell?" She cries and he looks down at the red rings of energy encompassing his hips. "Right sorry, clearing my mind, okay let's do this…"

He closes his eyes and the red rings dissipate.

"What the heck is going on?" Alex whispers to Sean who shrugs, "Hey Peter, you okay?" He taps Peter on the shoulder just as Charles strolls forward to stop him.

But too late, Peter's concentration appears to be broken as he replies, "I'm fine, _WHY?__"_

Then claps a hand to his mouth as the "why" comes out at supersonic pitch causing them all to drop to the floor, covering their ears whilst the glass in the hall mirror shatters alongside the glass in the windows.

Charles sighs, "I was hoping to avoid that,".

"Sorry," Peter says sheepishly before closing his eyes once more as he goes back to doing whatever it was he was doing before.

"Professor, what just happened?" Sean asks and the professor sighs, "Let's all go up to my office shall we? Before we bump into any more students."

* * *

_**A/N: Also, if you're confused about ages at all, **_

_**Claire**__ is 18_

_**Peter **__is 22_

_**Elle **__is 22_

_**Erik **__is 29 (so he'd have been 24 in Cuba)_

_**Charles **__is 27 (so he'd have been 22 in Cuba)_

_**Alex**__ is 20_

_**Sean**__ is 21_

_**Hank**__ is 23 _

_(although they have yet to be properly involved in this fic) _

_**Raven**__ is 23_

_**Azazel**__ is 30 _


	6. Chapter Five

_**A/N: I probably should have mentioned earlier that, as you might**__**'**__**ve already guessed, Claire hasn**__**'**__**t been raised by the Bennett family in this fic. Her past will be better explained later on. **_

_**Disclaimer: X-Men First Class, Heroes, nor anything else in this fan fiction that you recognise, belongs to me. I own nothing. All rights belong to Marvel/ Tim Kring.**_

* * *

_Chapter Five_

**Hank POV**

The Professor rolls around to sit behind his desk, whilst we all stand around, looking at him expectantly.

"Elle, Peter, Claire, you've all met Alex, Hank and Sean already, so there's need for introductions, except you should know that these three boys were members of my first class," He pauses as we wave at the newcomers, "And that they are also a part of a team they call the "X-Men",".

Myself, Sean and Alex shoot conspirational looks at one another as we wonder whether the professor actually _is _recruiting.

"An experimental facility has come to my attention, boys," the Professor says as he passes us a file. I pick it up and begin to read the notes held within, my brows drawn together in concern as Alex and Sean read over my shoulder.

"My God, professor, please tell me this place has been taken down," I say in horror as Alex clenches his fists, "Because if not, we can take care of it,".

Sean cracks his neck, attempting to copy Alex's macho persona, "Yup, tell us when and where and we'll burn it down to the ground. Or rather, Alex will. I'll scream it down to the ground and Hank will tear it down and-"

"_After _we've freed the many prisoners there," I point out.

"Well yeah, that too," Sean says.

"Way to point out the obvious, Hank," Alex smirks and I glare at him before rolling my amber eyes in defeat.

Once Sean and Alex started something, there was no point trying to stop something. Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't be just as effective for those two to talk the guards of these place to incapacitation rather than bothering to use their mutations. It would certainly be a lot less messier.

"Elle escaped from this facility two years ago, and Nathan Petrelli, Peter's brother and Claire's father, is one of the funders. They would also like to help take down this facility," the Professor says.

"You're related to the guy that funded this?" Sean asks in disgust and Claire glares at him, "_One_ of the funders, yes. It's not like we can help who we're related to,".

Sean shrinks back, ashamed of his behaviour and Alex shoots him a look as if to say, _What the hell __are you playing at? _

"Erik-" the Professor begins but Alex buts in, "You mean _Magneto,__"_and Sean has to cough to hide his snort of laughter.

"Yes, well Magneto, Erik, however you wish to refer to him, knows of this and also wants to involve the Brotherhood," the Professor says, his wary tone knowing of how Alex and Sean will overreact. Which they do. Spectacularly might you add.

"There is _no way _we are working with those sons of bitches!"

"Professor, you can't be serious!"

"I am being serious Sean, and Alex, language if you please," the Professor looks at Alex warningly and Alex stares back defiantly.

"You haven't agreed have you?" Alex asks and the Professor sighs, "No,".

Alex and Sean whoop in relief, but the Professor continues, "I'm going to agree, boys. We worked with most of the members back in Cuba, if you remember correctly. I know you've crossed paths I the field before, but we could use their help-"

"Actually, we might not. Once I knocked out the guard near me and stole his key card, escaping wasn't too hard. I mean, their security system isn't all that great," Elle says.

"Elle, you escaped two year ago. Since then, they'll have boosted their security system, I'm certain. And besides, it appears we have bigger issues yet," the Professor gestures for me to pass him the file and he picks out a document from the back.

"Trask had the idea to do these experiments in order to produce these super weapons of his. Sentinels, he calls them. They're designed to detect and take down mutants. They appear to still be in their early stages, but it's worrying. For all we know, they could be up and running, as we aren't too sure how recent this file is," the Professor runs a hand through his hair once more, his brow creased with frown lines.

"I didn't see any other files like this one, but then again once I read it I kinda flipped out and saw red after that, so there could have been more files like this one," Peter shrugs, clearly annoyed with himself that he hadn't thought to check this.

"Okay, well this all very interesting, but anyone care to explain why Shoeless over here had a little episode back in the entrance hall?" Alex asks.

Peter blushes and I feel bad for him; his mutation seems a little volatile.

"Peter's mutation allows him to mimic the mutations of others when he's near to them. As Hank is thinking right now, it's a little volatile," the Professor smiles and I gulp, suddenly feeling exposed.

"_Volatile_. You can say that again," Alex chuckles darkly and the Professor looks at him warningly, "Remember, Alex, that you were once 'volatile', but we've worked through that, haven't we?"

"Yeah Alex, remember that time you destroyed a statue," Sean points out.

"And the time that you almost set myself and the Professor on fire," I add.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Firstly, both of those times were at your requests, and secondly I was _fifteen_. No offence, dude, but you seem kinda older than me," Alex shrugs.

Peter sticks his hands in his pockets and nods, "Oh, don't worry about it. No offence taken. No, ya know, just call me volatile, I'm cool with it," he pulls a face, as though offended and Claire elbows him in the ribs again, "Idiot,".

"You love me," He grins and she rolls her eyes, "You tell yourself that, Petey, you tell yourself that,".

"Can we postpone the friendly sister-brother act, or rather the friendly uncle-niece act, for a moment, because I hate to interrupt and all, except that we're meant to be planning a prison break and plus, if I remember correctly, I was promised a tour?" Elle coos, a sardonic smile on her face.

"Right, yes you were. We'll plan the prison break in more detail after I've got into contact with the Brotherhood and you've met the rest of the X-Men-" Elle interrupts him sharply, "So there are the more X-Men besides the Golden Trio over here?" She points her thumb in the direction of me, Alex and Sean.

"Yes there is, you'll meet them later. But right now, I think it's best if we get to that tour. I need to get back to work, but the boys can show you around," the Professor smiles at us, though there's a warning glint in his eyes that screams _behave._

"You know, we're not that much younger than you Professor, and we're hardly boys anymore," Alex points out and the Professor shakes his head, "Nope, you're still boys to me, sorry boys,".

"Well, this has been strange. Come on, we'll show you around," Sean says, nodding his head at the three newcomers.

* * *

**Elle POV**

_Finally_.

I was seriously contemplating setting everyone alight if they didn't quit with all their juvial conversations in there. I mean seriously, one minute everything is quite simple, it's just me finding a safe haven at the Institute. The next thing I know, this Peter guy is having meltdown, Erik has left and we're planning a prison break.

Don't get me wrong, I'm psyched to finally be taking down these monsters, it's just this all seems a little too crazy too soon.

My life went from being intensely painful to rough but bearable to tiring but wonderfully mundane. And now here I am, heading down a new path, not entirely sure of its direction nor the capability of those I'll be sharing the journey with.

The lanky ginger guy, Sean I think he's called, is pointing out rooms, with the others occasionally making inputs.

I take a mental note of the swimming pool, so I know which direction to avoid. After that, I try to remember where the gym and kitchen is, but aside from that I can't help but drift off.

I hate to admit it, but Erik has unnerved me, what with his cold demeanour and frosty eyes, the way he talks about his beloved Brotherhood, the way I feel all tingly when I'm around him. I hate that a man I only met this morning can make me feel so vulnerable. I mean, I barely know him, so why is that I can't seem to stop thinking about him? It's frustrating beyond belief.

But damn, when he looks at me with his piercing gaze, it feels as though he's looking straight through to my soul, even though it's not him that's the telepath.

I shake my head to clear the thoughts. _Stop being so ridiculous, you only met him this morning. Perspective, Elle, perspective._

"So," I ask, feeling the need to get my mind off of _him, _"Where will be staying?"

Alex opens his mouth then closes it again as Sean looks at Hank, "Where are they staying?"

Hank shrugs, "There are some spare rooms upstairs,".

"The spare rooms!" Sean answers, triumphantly late.

I roll my eyes and he smirks at me, "So, you single?"

I stare at him, incredulous, "Hmm, depends. How old are you?"

He wiggles his eyebrows in a way that he must think is seductive but looks entirely ridiculous, "Twenty one, babe,".

I sigh, "Damn, I was hoping you were younger,".

Claire laughs, "Nope, you can still use that excuse,".

I fist punch the air, "Alright then, Blondie, I'll take your advice. Sorry Sean, but you're too young for me,".

He looks crestfallen as his eyes flicker between us, "How old are you, then? And you know what they say, age is just a number,".

"I'm twenty two, and anyways, I prefer older guys, so don't waste your time, Freckles,".

"Freckles? Damn, that's patronising," Sean sighs as we enter what appears to be the kitchen, which Hank then confirms that _yes, this very obviously a kitchen is _in fact _a kitchen!_

"Don't worry about it, she calls me Blondie even though she's also blonde," Claire smiles warmly and I heave a deep sigh, "Still don't see what your point is, Blondie,".

By now, however, Sean has already sidled up to Claire, a sly smile on his face. "So, how about you? You seeing anybody?"

"You mean aside from you breaching my bubble of personal space? Nope," She grins and Hank chuckles softly.

"So you're available?" He says smarmily whilst his friends pull faces at one another.

"Yeah, just not to you," She says with a sickly sweet smile, her brows raised.

"Damn, it is _not _my day," He sighs and Hank asks, "Why is it that you feel the urge to flirt with every blonde female you meet, Sean?"

"Don't you mean _every _female he meets?" Alex laughs and Sean sighs, ignoring Alex, "I don't know man, I'm just really into blondes,".

He winks at Claire who looks at him in disgust, meanwhile Alex looks at him dubiously, "Um, dude, _I__'__m _blonde. You trying to tell me something here?"

Sean strolls up to Alex and caresses his face, "Yes Alex! I love you,". Alex makes a vomiting sound and shoves him off whilst Hank and Sean burst into peels of laughter. Claire giggles softly, damn she's inhumanly perky, and Peter has a confused look on his face, as though deep in thought.

Claire pokes him in the side. I can hear her murmur softly to him, "You okay?" to which he replies despondently, "Yeah, I'm fine... why?" She rolls her eyes, clearly not believing him and I turn away.

I can't help but feel extremely alone whenever I see them interacting, clearly comfortable around each other. Family is a foreign thing to me; I don't even really know what it would be like to get close to somebody, anybody; to let someone in. It's been just me and my thoughts for company for so long.

I'm tired of feeling lonely, but as much as I hate to admit it, I'm awfully terrified to let someone in. _Damn, _I hate feeling weak.

* * *

I fling my bag onto the floor and flop down on what has to be the comfiest bed in the history of forever.

I lie down on it for almost an hour, making angel-shaped creases in the duvet with my arms and lugs, just trying to soak up the soft sensation.

I mean talk about _wow. _I have never realised just how soft a bed could be until now. My prison bed wasn't actually all that bad, but wasn't that great either. In my old apartment I used an old mattress pushed up in a corner as a bed, which was bound to feel comfy after having spent weeks sleeping on street floors, under bridges, in parks.

But this. This is _the _softest bed. It's decided, screw the Brotherhood, I am _not _leaving this bed. _Ever. _

Of course, rationally one shouldn't make life choices based on the comfort-level of the bed available. But to heck with rationality, because I _really_ like this bed!

The room itself is neither too large nor too small, with pale blue walls and a single bed, a set of drawers, a mirror and dressing table complete with a cushioned chair pushed underneath it. The floor is carpeted and before I was admiring the bed, I was wriggling my toes into the soft surface.

"Elle? Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes," A voice calls through the door. It sounds like Alex, gruff and low.

"Okey-dokey," I reply, as I sluggishly pull myself away from the bed.

With a quick look in the mirror, I quickly braid my long hair so that it's more out of the way and straighten up my striped jumper before heading off in the direction of the kitchen. That bed may be amazing, but my stomach is roaring like a wild animal.

Peter's bedroom is on another floor near the rooms of the other boys, whilst Claire's is directly next to mine.

She walks out at the same time as me, her hair pulled back into a ponytail, dressed as she was before, in frayed bell-bottom jeans, brown sandals and a light green sleeveless t-shirt.

She smiles at me and waves, as annoyingly perky as ever, and I smile back, feigning enthusiasm.

"Sardonic as ever?" She asks as we make our way to kitchen and I reply, "Yup,".

"Hungry much?" To which I reply, "You bet, Blondie,".

She rolls her eyes at my brusque behaviour, "So what's with this whole tough girl front of yours-"

"Not a front," I interject and she pulls a face at me, "Yeah, but you know what I mean. You don't have to act like you're above everybody else all the time, you know,".

"Gee thanks for the advice on how to live my life, Blondie, but do you mind if I ignore it?" I quip back and she huffs, "Can you please stop calling me Blondie!"

"Well then, what else am I meant to call you?" I ask.

"I don't know, how about my _name?__"_She says in a tone that screams _d__'__oh!_

"Which _is__…__?__"_I trail off and she rolls her eyes again, exasperated, "Claire. Just call me Claire,".

"Nah, too boring. How about Cheerleader? You look like a Cheerleader to me," I grin as she blushes. _Bingo. _"Looks like I scored the big bucks, Blondie, I bet you actually were a Cheerleader!"

She glowers at me, "So what if I was?"

"I knew it! Looks like you've got yourself a new nickname, Cheerleader," I smile at her as she groans and she strides forward, gaining a headstart on me. Which doesn't last long, given that my legs are a lot longer than hers.

We pass several students on our way to the kitchen, who shoot curious looks in our direction, before finally reaching the kitchen.

"Hey," Peter greets Claire warmly, hugging her quickly before pulling her in the direction of the another room.

"Hello to you too," I say dryly and he startles before blushing, evidently embarrassed by his rudeness, "Hi, err, sorry Elle. They've set out dinner in the backroom. The other X-Men are there too,".

He flashes a quick lopsided grin at me before linking his arm with Claire's and pulls her in the direction of the mystery backroom, which as it turns out, is just a dining room that happens to be in the back.

Charles, Hank, Alex and Sean are already sat down, the latter two boys helping themselves to hearty portions of some pasta dish. Alongside them sits a bunch of people I have yet to meet, which I have no doubt are actually mutants.

"You had your weird freaky reaction to mutants yet, Bangs?" I ask Peter who nods, either oblivious to my mocking tone or ignoring it.

My eyes trail across the new faces. Soon enough, we find ourselves being introduced to Lorna*, a twenty year old green-haired girl with an ability akin to Erik's, Eden, an eighteen year old girl with a brunette pixie cut and the power of persuasion and Micah, a nineteen year old technopath with a highly impressive afro.

Soon enough, I'm sat down and tucking into what appears to be spaghetti Bolognese and they're telling me about their "codenames".

"Okay," Sean says, "So I'm Banshee, for obvious reasons. And then this fine young man here," he pats Alex on the shoulder, "Is Havok,".

Lorna sends a spoon flying in Sean's direction, "I'm Polaris, Micah's Rebel and Hank is Beast,".

Sean swats the spoon away and it lands on Eden's plate, much to her distaste. She sighs and plucks it out, "I'm Wrath,".

Sean smirks, "Because you wouldn't want to deal with her wrath,".

She promptly throws the spoon at his head, at which point Charles has no choice but to intervene with a curt, "No throwing cutlery at the dinner table!"

Sean sticks his tongue out at Eden who winks at him as she says, "_Hit yourself in the face_," which he does.

Charles sighs. "No mutations at the dinner table," he says in a defeated tone.

"Well, anyways," She turns to smile at us newcomers, "The professor is Professor X,".

Peter looks at Charles in surprise, "You have a codename too?"

"Yes," He sighs, "_Unfortunately_,".

"So, you guys thinking of any for yourselves?" Lorna asks us, her green eyes twinkling.

"I know what _you_ should be called," I say to Claire and she glowers at me, "Don't you dare-"

"_Cheerleader!__"_I cry and Peter bursts into laughter, "Why did you tell her that? That's just asking for trouble!"

Claire elbows him irritably and grumbles, "She guessed, and you know how bad I suck at lying. It's not that big of a deal anyway. And I was thinking that I should be called Invincible Girl, or something like that,".

"And why is that?" Alex asks, his curiosity peaked.

Claire shrugs before she picks up Peter's discarded knife and rakes it down her arm.

"Holy shit!" Alex exclaims just as Sean cries, "What the hell is wrong with you?" and Charles sighs, "What did I say about no mutations at the dinner table?"

Their shock dies down as they see the skin heal up, leaving only a light trail of blood behind. She smiles as if it's nothing, ignoring the looks of awe aimed in her direction. Hank is staring at her arm in wonder- I guess the whole instant healing thing must really appeal to doctors.

Peter sighs, "Jesus Claire, did you have to do that whilst people are eating? And you used my knife!"

"You don't need a knife to eat pasta," She says, nonplussed, and he sighs, "Yes, but it's the principal isn't it? I mean, you don't just use someone else's dinner knife to slice up your arm,".

"Don't be such a baby, just come up with codename already," She grumbles before stabbing a strand of spaghetti rather violently.

"I guess Mimic** fits quite well, so I'll go with that," He shrugs.

The other X-Men must have encountered his mutation when he was in here before, as they nod in agreement.

"What about you?" Micah asks me and I grin wickedly, "Sparks. Because of my sizzling personality,".

He raises an eyebrow and I wiggle a finger as it lights up with blue sparks of electricity.

"Cool, another electrical mutant!"

"Yeah, _cool,__"_I say snidely, but he seems unhindered. "Do you often revert to sarcasm to hide how you really feel?" He asks and I glare back, "Nope. Sometimes I use violence, I like to mix it up, ya know?"

Claire laughs and I nudge her, "Glad you find me amusing, Cheerleader,".

Claire shakes her head and stabs another piece of spaghetti.

"So, any news on the prison break plans?" I ask Charles and he shakes his head, "I'm going to contact Erik after dinner,".

"Fun stuff, Wheels," I say and Charles frowns, "Did you just make a derisive comment concerning my disability, Elle?"

I nod, undeterred, "Yup,".

"You know most people would usually consider that rude and inappropriate?" He points out.

"Yeah, I guess. But I'm not most people. Besides, the creepy guys back at the facility prescribed me as being, what was it they said? Oh yeah, a sociopath! Apparently, I'm a sociopath; go figure, right? A mutant and a sociopath, aren't I just a bag of surprises?" I smirk and Charles regards me with concern in his eyes before sighing and looking away.

"We'll start training you three tomorrow in the Danger Room, which I'm sure the boys showed you to earlier on," Charles says and they nod simultaneously.

A day training with Cheerleader and Bangs? What _wouldn't _be fun about that?

* * *

_**A/N: Hi, so just some things to clear up:**_

_***I know I was debating as to whether or not Lorna should be in due to the whole continuity thing, but I couldn't help myself. Let's just pretend she's not Erik's daughter, hey?***_

_****Yeah, so I know there's already a Mimic in Marvel, but oh well…I was struggling to come with a name for him, because Mimic just really fits. So other Mimic will not be in this story, as that would be very confusing****_

_**More Heroes characters! I really like Eden and Micah so I slipped them in, just to bulk up the X-Men team, seeing as the school's been running for nearly 5 years. **_

_**Sorry if I was mentioning pairings a little prematurely in the last chapter! The soonest pairing will probably be Erik/Elle, but I prefer relationships to happen **_**after **_**characters have been friends first. I just think things work out best that way, ya know? So I can't see anything happening with anyone until they've trained together, gained trust, taken down the facility and so on. I just got a little overexcited about everything, sorry! **_

_**Anyways, hope you're enjoying it so far (it's a little slow at the moment, but when the Brotherhood come to town it'll pick up pace a little bit hopefully!)**_

_**P.S I'll be going through editing past chapters to neaten things up a bit in terms of Elle's nicknames, so that they have capital first letters, and so that when they reference the professor it's as the Professor. **_


End file.
